Masterpiece // Mavin

Chapter Three

Whenever Michael was in the area, which was about once a week, Gavin allowed him in after closing. They sometimes had a cup of tea together and reflected on how their days went. These were the times that Gavin lived for.

However, this time, Michael entered silently, as it was beginning to get late. As he crept through the shop towards the back room, he heard his friend's voice humming softly. He smiled to himself and slowed his pace in order to keep his steps as silent as possible, as not to disturb Gavin while he was in his element.

Michael rounded the corner to the back room and stopped dead in his tracks.

In front of him was Gavin Free. Palette on one side, cup of water on the other. He was lay on his back, feet up in the air, with a canvas between them. The Brit hummed on as he made little circles with his brush. On the canvas was the least of what Michael expected. A portrait. Not a self-portrait, a celebrity, or a character, but a portrait of... Michael.

A gasp slipped out from between Michael's lips, which was the trigger that Gavin needed to snap back to reality. The Brit took a second to process the situation that had presented itself. Even after processing it, his immediate reaction was still dramatic. He scrambled to his feet, dropping his piece and getting paint all over his jeans in the process. Seeming not to notice, he stared at Michael, who was at the door, mouth agape.

"Was that...-" Michael began.

"A picture of you? No! No... God, no. I don't even paint! I told you that!" Gavin struggled to hold the story that he had told to Michael for the last year.

"Gavin, you fucking idiot, I just saw you painting, and that was definitely me! I know my fucking face!" It was now that Michael took a proper look around the room, "Wait a minute..." He began to stroll around the edges of the room, looking at the paintings that were strewn around. Some were leant on the wall, others were in small piles, but all of them had something in common. Something other than all portraying the same person.

They were the colours, stroke patterns, style, of the art that Michael had been in love with since the moment that he saw his first piece. He recognised the bright tones that matched the ones hung around his house, the soft brush strokes that matched the piles of paintings that he had had in his basement for such a long time with nothing to do with. His eyes widened and he looked back at his friend.

"Gav, you're...?" He didn't need to finish his sentence for Gavin to let out a sigh and decide to come clean.

"Yeah! Okay, you caught me, dude, I'm the one that paints all those paintings that you come in here for. All those anonymous ones, they're me! I have tons of them back here. I love putting them out for you because it makes me feel like my work is worth something!" Tears began to form in Gavin's eyes. They were mostly from embarrassment. "I guess I should've told you, huh?" He looked down at the ground.

Michael smiled pitifully at his friend, "Gavin, sweetheart, I understand why you didn't tell me. It's okay! Finding out this way is much more exciting! I've always loved your work, my boy. What did you think was going to happen?"

"I don't know! I just didn't want you to think of me differently if you knew that I painted all of these..." Gav gestured to the art-filled room. "And I didn't want you to think it's weird that I paint you so often."

"I mean... I definitely wasn't expecting it. Why do you do that?"

"Your face... it just..." Gavin looked up from the ground to meet Michael's gaze, "it's inspiring! Your eyes always shine in this certain way whenever you walk into the shop, and they shine in this different way whenever you're looking at my work..." Gavin was moving his hands around as he spoke, as if they could translate the beauty that he saw in the man stood across the room from him. "You smile in this certain way whenever you see something you like..." Gavin closed his eyes, "you run your hands over my paintings always in the same way... and your nose twitches just the slightest bit when you like the texture..."

Gavin realised what he was doing. He snapped his eyes open and put his hands back by his side. Michael's jaw was virtually on the floor.

"Oh God, sorry... I don't mean to sound creepy or anything, Michael! I really don't! Please don't be creeped out."

"You really think that? That's why you paint me?"

"Well..." he paused, trying to figure out a way to undo everything that he had just said. When he didn't find one, he continued, "Yeah, it is..." Gav shuffled, looking down at his feet.

"Hey... hey! Don't get upset, Gavin. Why don't we go across the street for a coffee? I'll even make a little sign for the door to tell everyone to fuck off. How does that sound?" Michael smiled and put a hand on Gavin's shoulder. He moved his head up and down slowly, still looking at the ground. "Okay, buddy. Chillax for a minute while I write up that sign." Gavin nodded again and Michael jogged out of the room.